Unto Dust
by DispatchesFromDistrict7
Summary: Historical AU: Katniss Everdeen comes from a family of wheat farmers in Panem, Oklahoma, a town in the panhandle. This is the story of how she and her loved ones survive the dust bowl and great depression in the 1930s.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1 - Chapter 1**

_September 1929_

I glance up at the ceiling, as I hear a clap of thunder and the staccato of rain hitting the roof of our schoolhouse. It's awfully late in the year for a thunderstorm, but rain is never a bad thing in these parts. I hope Papa remembered his coat. He was going out to help my best friend Gale Hawthorne's daddy string some fencing today. Last night Papa told me that some of the Hawthorne cattle broke through the fencing and ended up on the neighbor's property, as they were getting ready to plow. I overheard Papa joking with Mama about the tirade Clove Larson's father had over the incident. He told her it was a sight to see. Everyone is prepping their fields right now, as planting begins in a couple weeks.

Bringing my attention back to class, I realize we are beginning to discuss William Dafoe's Robinson Crusoe. My class is about halfway through reading the book, but I've already finished it and have started rereading. This is my favorite part of school. Books. I love reading and discussing books. Maybe someday I can become a schoolteacher like Miss Trinket. She's from back east, where she went to Bryn Mawr, a women's college. I'm not sure how she ended up in Panem, Oklahoma, a small town located on the panhandle between Texas and Kansas. But I'm grateful she's here teaching grades 10-12. Many of my classmates stop school around the age of fourteen, but my papa and Gale's daddy wanted us to finish school. Papa says he'd be pleased as punch to see his little Kat become a teacher like Miss Trinket someday. Gale is two years ahead of me and is a senior. I'll miss him next year.

Miss Trinket reads the following from chapter 10 of Robinson Crusoe, "_Thus we never see the true state of our condition till it is illustrated to us by its contraries, nor how to value what we enjoy, but by want of it_." She asks the class about the meaning of this passage. I shoot my arm in the air. "Yes, Katniss."

"It means we have a tendency to take things for granted. We don't really understand what we have until we lose it."

Miss Trinket responds, "Thank you, Katniss. What other thoughts are there?"

Peeta Mellark raises his hand and replies, "If we don't understand other's living conditions both those who live above and below us, it is difficult to have perspective on our current state. We cannot see where we are blessed and if there is more to strive for."

Gale interjects, "It's also difficult to see where the true injustices lie."

Peeta rubs Gale the wrong way for some reason. As Miss Trinket continues the discussion, I shake my head and smile at Peeta. When Peeta smiles back, it reaches his eyes, which are the color of the summer sky. Honestly, I think they are probably the bluest eyes I've ever seen. My mama and sister, Prim, also have blue eyes but they are not nearly as clear. Peeta is a nice boy. Always friendly. Always willing to help. I don't understand why Gale dislikes him so much.

Soon school is over. As I gather my things, I look over and see Glimmer Avery run over to flirt with Peeta. They would be a pretty pair with their wavy blond hair and blue eyes. Glimmer. Such a ridiculous name. Her twin also carries an unfortunate moniker, Marvel. Her mother was some sort of actress back in New York on Broadway, but she suffers from asthma. She came out to a clinic in Kansas for the warm, dry air where she met Mr. Avery before they settled here in Panem. Glimmer and Marvel try to put on airs as if they are better than the rest of us, despite that they were born here too. Glimmer says that she is going to move to Hollywood, California and become an actress like Janet Gaynor, who won some award for being the best actress last year. I always nod at her, wishing her luck with a smile. It's easier to agree with her plan and who am I to tell her that she's dreaming. Maybe she too will be best actress.

"Katniss." I hear as I realize Peeta managed to shake off Glimmer and sneak up on me.

"Are you planning on going to the church social on Saturday?"

"Yes." I nod, grinning.

Peeta grins back, "I'll see you there."

Suddenly Gale walks up and interrupts, "Katniss, we need to get Prim and head out."

"See you at school tomorrow," Peeta responds.

Gale and I walk outside and meet Prim, my nine-year-old sister, so we can start the walk back to our homestead, which is a few miles out of town. Gale lives a little further down the road, but he's having dinner with us tonight. I've been best friends with him since we were in diapers, probably because his daddy is Papa's closest friend. Papa met Mr. Hawthorne when he bought a failed homestead at auction back in 1910. Part of our property borders the Hawthorne cattle ranch. Of course, now the Hawthorne's run more than just cattle. They acquired additional property to plant wheat. Wheat is food, it is nourishment, it is gold. Sitting in the barn, we have this year's Turkey Red Wheat seeds ready to be planted in the coming weeks. Over the fall, we first watch it sprout, then in the winter grow and turn green, before it takes on the most beautiful golden hue to be harvested in June.

Papa's hoping that with this year's harvest and next, we'll finally have enough money saved to afford to build the two-story frame house he and mama dream about. We still live in a two-room soddy. A few years back Papa built a new barn to house our dairy cow, our horses, a pig, and Prim's goat Lady. Papa says it pays to be frugal. He'll borrow to buy seed for the year's crop and to update our machinery but he won't mortgage the land the way our neighbors have to increase landholdings and his production. Papa doesn't like owing people. The neighbors say he's foolish, "The cost of growing wheat is so much lower than the price, profits are guaranteed."

My father is innately cautious and a saver because of the stories my grandpapa told us about emigrating from Russia. Papa is Volga German. My understanding is that long ago Papa's family moved from Germany to Russia along the Volga River because Catherine the Great promised farmlands and exemption from military service, which was important because Papa's family were Mennonites. The Russian Czar revoked that promise later and when the government notified my great grandpapa that my great uncle was to report for military service, the family quickly left and came to America. Papa says there is a lesson to be learned there. They could do that because they were frugal.

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Gale, Prim, and I turn down our road. In the distance, we can see the house. There is a couple of vehicles out front.

"Hmm. That looks like Uncle Haymitch's Model T. I don't know the other truck. It doesn't look like Papa's back from your place yet, Gale."

"Katniss, do you think Uncle Haymitch brought cookies?" Prim inquires. Prim loves cookies and Uncle Haymitch knows it. Often when he comes by to see Papa, his foster brother, he stops by The Mellark Bakery to pick up a couple for us. Uncle's parents died of when he was two, so my grandparents who were cousins raised him. I love my Uncle Haymitch, when he's sober. Uncle loves two things in this life, his family and his moonshine. Ripper makes a fortune off him, especially since Prohibition has allowed her to charge extortion level prices.

"That's odd. It looks like Thom's truck. I wonder what's going on."

A feeling of foreboding comes over me when I realize that Mr. Hawthorne's farmhand and my Uncle Haymitch are there but not Papa. Gale and I look at each other and we pick up our pace.

We enter the house and see Mama, Uncle Haymitch and Thom sitting at the kitchen table. Mama is covering her face. Her shoulders are shaking. She is crying. Uncle and Thom quickly get up and tell Gale and me to sit down. Uncle seems surprisingly calm as he picks up Prim and sits back down situated her on his lap. Thom looks distressed as he stands off to the side, fiddling with his Stetson, slowly rotating the brim around as he holds it in front of him. Gale, Prim and I are silent as we wait for whatever news is forthcoming.

Uncle takes a deep breath and says in a calm, quiet voice, "Girls. Gale. There's been an accident." He takes another breath as my eyes widen. "Both of your fathers did not survive."

Prim starts crying in earnest, cuddling into Uncle's shoulder as he rubs her back. I want to say something, but it seems my voice is caught in my throat. I can't seem to breathe as I hear Gale ask, "What? How?"

Uncle asks Thom to explain, who quietly coughs before beginning.

"As you know, Mr. Everdeen was helping Mr. Hawthorne string some fencing today. They rode out early this morning. I was working in the barn after lunch when I saw the horses come back without Mr. Everdeen or your daddy." He looks at Gale and briefly shakes his head. "I figured the horses must have been spooked by the thunder earlier. I rode out to bring their horses back to them." His voice shaky, "The best I can figure is that lightening set the prairie on fire. The winds bringing in the storm caused the fire to spread quickly, and with the horses gone, the fire overtook them. Then the rains started, putting the fire out as quickly as it began."

I think this is the most I've ever heard Thom say at any one moment. He stands there trying to be stoic but failing miserably. I can imagine the sight he saw. I am numb. My mother on one side of me and my sister on the other are both sobbing. I can't shed a tear. I can't speak. I can only just look ahead staring at Gale. A thousand emotions flash through his steel grey eyes, while I keep my face blank. I hear Uncle tell Gale that Thom is to bring him home straight away. His mother is waiting for him. I rise with Gale from the table. He walks around the table. I look into his face. He's glassy eyed as he gives me a hug. I just stand there. Arms at my side. Not crying. He tells me that he will see me tomorrow.

Less than ten minutes can change a life forever. Fifteen minutes ago, Gale was a laughing boy, learning the ranching business so he could inherit those responsibilities from his father in the future. Sometimes he is too serious and shows frustration at things that we have no power to change and stop. I always tell him that it is pointless because it's like being frustrated that the wind blows. Gale is both an optimist and a fighter, believing that we have the power to change things for the better. On Sundays after church, Gale and I spend the afternoon hunting jackrabbits and prairie chickens. Not a very girlish activity by any means, but I begged Papa to include me when they were teaching Gale how to hunt with a bow and arrow. The Hawthornes have some Comanche blood. I think this is the root of Gale's frustration. Some of the townsfolk don't like to do business with the Hawthornes and it shows, but money is money. I understand why he feels that way. Some of the townsfolk would just as soon shut their door on us for being German, especially since the Great War. As I watch Gale walk out of the house with Thom, it seems that Gale holds his head a little higher. The future has come a lot sooner than he could have ever anticipated. He is head of his family. He must take care of his mother, Hazelle, and his three younger siblings, Rory, Vick, and Posy. He is in charge of overseeing a cattle ranch. Many people depend on him, not just his employees but also their families.

I sit back down at the table. Uncle is trying to soothe Prim, who is inconsolable. I glance at my mother. She hasn't moved or said a word the entire time.

Uncle Haymitch quietly begins speaking to me. "Sweetheart. Please look at me." When I don't respond, he says my name. I look up at him. "I'll be over tomorrow morning to help you and your mama start to plan the funeral. We should plan to have it within a few days. Thursday would probably be good."

I blink at him. I quietly get up and begin preparing supper. Later that night as I lay in bed, I still can't cry.

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I sit in a rocker by the stove quietly mending socks. I listen to Uncle plan the funeral for my papa. Mama has finally stopped crying but all she's managed to do today is to get out of bed, clean herself up, and sit down at the table. I coaxed her into eating some breakfast. The only acknowledgement she gives to Uncle is to nod her head occasionally and say, "That's fine." Uncle Haymitch explains that he spoke to Hazelle earlier this morning. We are going to have a joint memorial service at the church in Panem followed by two graveside services on Thursday morning. The reception afterward for both will be held at the Hawthorne ranch. I stop paying attention as I look down and realize the current sock I'm darning belonged to Papa. With a shaky hand, I carefully finish and place it back in the basket and look for one of Prim's to repair.

I lift up my head as I hear Uncle Haymitch talk about the music for the memorial service. Song is very important to us. Papa loved to sing. Mama has always said that when Papa sings the birds go silent to listen and that is why she fell in love with him. I grew up in a house of singing. Papa taught me the old folk songs of his people, while Mama taught me the Scottish and Irish folk songs passed down to her.

"Katniss. I've spoken with the Schmidts, the Bauers, and the Henkels. They are joining me in singing, 'Das Schicksal' during the memorial service. You have such a lovely voice. Would you like to sing with us?"

It takes a moment to realize that Uncle is addressing me. He wants me to join him and the other Volga German families in our community to sing one last song. Stiltedly I reply, "Papa would like 'Das Schicksal.' You sing it, but I won't join you."

Uncle Haymitch looks disappointed before I continue, "I will sing, but it will be the last song of the service. I will sing 'The Parting Glass.'"

Mama takes in a sharp breath and silently starts crying again. "The Parting Glass" was Papa's favorite song.

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_Oh, all the comrades that e'er I had  
They're sorry for my going away  
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had  
They'd wish me one more day to stay  
But since it falls unto my lot  
That I should rise and you should not  
I'll gently rise and softly call  
Good night and joy be with you all _

As I finish the second stanza of the song, I look out at the family, friends, and neighbors gathered to say goodbye to Papa and Mr. Hawthorne. Gale has aged ten years in three days. He holds his baby sister, Posy, whose just two years old and keeps asking for her da, as she doesn't understand where he went. Rory and Vick, age nine and seven, stand uncomfortably between him and his mother. My mother stands straight, silent tears falling down her face. Uncle Haymitch is patting my sister's shoulder as she cries into his side. I finish the last refrain and go back to my seat. Papa used to tease my mother that the last refrain was about leaving his friends to come find her. _"There is a fair maid in the town, That sorely has my heart beguiled, Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own she has my heart enthralled."_ Papa's never coming to find her again. The minister closes the service, reminding our guests of the burial immediately following and the reception at the Hawthorne's ranch.

We quietly file out of the church and walk to the graveyard. Papa's burial follows Mr. Hawthornes. Once we arrive at the Hawthorne plot, I stand next to Gale. He's still holding Posy in one arm. I gently lace my fingers through his and give him a squeeze. We remain with our hands clasped until it's time for Gale to shovel in the first pile of dirt. He's head of the family now. The burial is very brief.

My papa's service is much the same. Gale stands next to me clasping my hand. Uncle Haymitch shovel's in the first pile of dirt. I'm surprised when he doesn't hand the shovel to one of Papa's friends, instead he hands it to me. I step forward and scoop up the rich dirt. Dirt that before this, I only associated with goodness as it allows the wheat to grow. I hear the dirt hit the top of his wooden casket. I hand the shovel to Gale and bend over to hug my sister. My mama just stands by a shell of her former self. We walk back to the cars and trucks. I help Mama and Prim into Uncle's Model-T before climbing in. Uncle Haymitch drives to the Hawthorne's for the reception.

It appears the whole town has cooked for both our families. The kitchen is overloaded with casseroles, bread, and other baked goods. I sit quietly on a love seat with my sister watching. My mama seems to have come out of the frozen spell she's been under since the burial and is showing graciousness to friends and neighbors.  
"Katniss." I look up into Peeta's blue eyes. He runs his hands through is blond waves.

"I'm so sorry for what happened to your father," he tells me.

I nod. Woodenly I mumble, "Thank you."

"If there is anything you need, please just ask." I nod at him again and stare off into space. After a few moments, he quietly reaches out. He gently squeezes my hand before walking back to his father.

The reception is a blur. Several of my classmates and their families attend. I see Clove Larson, Glimmer and Marvel Avery, and Cato Schmidt talking. They keep glancing at Prim and I, as if we're some weird freak show on display at a carnival. I refuse to give them a reaction. I must be strong. I won't let them see any weakness.

Gale comes and sits beside us for a while. We don't say much. He mentions that he's not returning to school next week. He has to take care of the ranch now. I'm not surprised. Frankly, I hadn't thought about school at all. I've been too busy keeping mama together and helping Prim. This is a reminder that tomorrow is coming. What are we going to do? Planting is supposed to start soon. I will think on it later, perhaps tomorrow morning I can talk to Uncle Haymitch about it.

Soon the reception is over and we go home to a house that is too quiet. No rumbling laughter from Papa. No soft singing from Mama. No giggles from Prim. My mother has returned to her shell. I help her get ready for bed. Soon after, I crawl into bed with my sister. She snuggles into my side. I hear her breathing even out as I stare at the ceiling. Papa would want me to keep the farm going. I hope that tomorrow I can talk to Uncle Haymitch about the planting. For being a drunk, he's remained surprisingly sober the last few days. We have to plant, and the crop needs to come in. Papa took out a loan from Mr. Snow at Capitol Bank of Panem for this year's seed and for a new plow called a One-Way, which plows the good earth faster. We have savings but as Papa told me, "It pays to be frugal." Last month Prim, Mama, and I canned tomatoes, corn, and beans from the garden. That is good. We won't have to spend money there. I can still hunt to help bring in meat. We have Bessie and Lady, our cow and goat, to provide milk and cheese. I let out a shaky breath as I realize how scared I am. I hope Mama will wake up to help me soon, with the exception of the reception this afternoon, she has been acting as if she died with Papa. She is a ghost, drifting in and out. No matter. I will take care of us. I turn on my side away from Prim. I finally allow myself to cry.

**A/N: If you would like additional information about this chapter, you can visit my tumblr: dispatchesfromdistrict7**

**The characters are the property of the amazing Suzanne Collins and do not belong to me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Last chapter was only in Katniss' POV. Beginning with this chapter, I will occasionally be including Peeta's POV. I'll indicate point of view changes. More notes at the end.**

Chapter 2

_September 1930 - Katniss_

Snuggling under the covers, I slowly open my eyes as the rooster crows. Prim's not in bed next to me. She must have had a nightmare and crawled into bed with Mama, unable to wake me from a sound sleep. I can't move my legs. Prim's ugly marmalade cat Buttercup is lying on them. The only time Buttercup likes me is when I sleep or when I feed him the occasional table scrap. Otherwise, I can count on a hiss or a bat with his paw when I walk by him. At least he knows how to keep his claws sheathed; otherwise, scratches would cover my legs. He likes to run up behind me and bat at the back of my knees like a boxer. It makes Prim laugh every time. He loves Prim, but she tends to kick like the devil at night so he usually sleeps next to or on top of me.

Prim and I sleep in a bed tucked into the corner of the main room of our two-room soddy. Our bed is separated by a pretty set of curtains that my mother made a few years ago. I carefully extricate my legs and get out of bed. I walk over to the washbasin on the bureau and wash my face. I unbraid my hair. It's become messy during the night. I brush it and quickly replate it in a single braid over my left shoulder. I splash water on my toothbrush and sprinkle it with baking soda so I can brush my teeth. After I finish cleaning myself up, I quickly dress in a work shirt and pair of boys' pants I inherited from the Hawthornes. I have school later, but it's much easier to manage chores in pants. I walk into the bedroom to wake my sister.

"Katniss, the walls are making noises again."

"Little Duck, is that why you came in here to sleep last night?" I ask. I call her little duck because her blouses always seemed to be untucked from her skirts, creating a ducktail.

"Yes," she says, as she continues to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

"It's just centipedes. How about this? Saturday morning we'll iron the walls again. Now get dressed and do your morning chores," I say ruffling her bangs.

"Mama?" I try to rouse my mother. She hasn't moved since I entered the room, but I know she's awake. "Do you think you could fix breakfast?" She rolls away from me, effectively shutting me out. Some mornings she smiles and gets up, other days she never gets out of bed. She's suffered from melancholia ever since Papa died. Today looks like it's going to be one of her bad days. I shrug it off and exit the room.

I head out of the house to the barn to do morning chores. Once I check all the animals, I feed the horses and pig before milking Bessie our cow. Prim always feeds the chickens, collects the eggs, and milks her goat. After school, I'll muck the stalls. We are doing alright on our own since Papa died. I manage the farm. Uncle Haymitch sobers up to assist with the planting and harvest. I'm willing to accept his help, on account of him being family. We don't need charity from other folks. I don't like owing anyone. The farm is still making a profit despite the price of wheat dropping this year from over a dollar per bushel to seventy cents. According to Mr. Snow, the town banker, and the folks at the grange the price is at the bottom. Wheat won't go any lower. It's still a profit, as it costs about fifty cents per bushel to grow. I've managed to pay back the loans my papa took for the new plow and for the seed last year. Unfortunately, we needed to replace the tractor, which required a new loan from Capitol Bank. The new loan makes me very uncomfortable. Mr. Snow was very nice about it. He assured Mama and me that we shouldn't have a problem making payments even with the drop in wheat prices. We're getting ready to plant in a couple weeks.

The only other help I will accept is from the Hawthornes. Gale has insisted on sending one of his men over two days a week to help on the farm with repairs and such. Sometimes it's Thom; often it is Thresh, a young black man. Last spring, Thresh and his younger sister Rue came to Panem. Most people shut their doors to him due to his skin color. That really burned Gale up. Gale was happy to give him a position on the ranch. He is also letting them stay in an old dugout on the property for minimal rent. Gale would let them stay there free, but Thresh doesn't want charity. It's nicer than the bunkhouse most of the cowboys live in. Rue can't live in the bunkhouse anyway, and they are a package deal. Often when Thresh comes over he brings Rue. She and Prim have become fast friends. Unfortunately, Rue isn't allowed to go to school, as it's against the law to attend class with whites. There aren't any other options. This infuriated Gale, but once I talked him down, I convinced him to talk to Prim's teacher, Mrs. Atala. She now puts together lesson plans, which she sends home with Prim to pass along. Hazelle, Gale's mother, tutors her. I'm unsure of what happened before Thresh and Rue came to Panem, but from what I gather ever since they moved here life has been looking up for them.

I walk back in the house and see that Prim has left fresh eggs on the counter. After changing into a dress, I rustle us up some breakfast. We eat in a hurry before leaving for school. Uncle Haymitch and Gale have been insistent that I still attend. There are some days where things happen on the farm and I miss class, but I go more often than not. Miss Trinket has been hinting at me about teaching at the school when I graduate next year. We will have to see. My priority has to be Prim, so the farm comes first.

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"Prim. How was school today?" I inquire as we exit.

"It was fine, except Rory is a pest."

I give her a questioning glance, before I smile. I can guess the answer.

"He wouldn't be quiet. We were supposed to be working on our arithmetic and he kept talking to me, getting us in trouble. Mrs. Atala made us stay during recess and clean the chalkboard."

I chuckle. Rory has a huge crush on my sister. Prim thinks he's a nuisance.

We are walking along Panem's Main Street, when I hear, "Good afternoon, Sweethearts," slurred. I look up and see my Uncle Haymitch standing in front of me, moonshine on his breath. At least it's past noon.

"Hello Uncle. What have you been up to today?"

"Not much. I dropped in on your mama this morning."

"How was she?"

"Probably the same as she was when you left for school." This makes me pause. I quickly shake my head. He confirmed today was a bad day. It's not surprising as Papa's funeral was a year ago. I don't have her luxury. I can't check out. I can't sleep the day away. Papa wouldn't want me to do that.

"How would you girls like to get a soda?" invites my uncle.

I decline initially saying, "I'm not sure we have time. We have errands and chores." But, I acquiesce to my sister's pleas. We walk down to the sidewalk by Capitol Bank. Two men in nice suits exit, talking and not paying attention. They run right into us, making my uncle, who was already unstable, stumble.

"Get out of the way, you drunk!" they barked at Uncle Haymitch, rushing past us.

"Damn suitcase farmers," my uncle mutters under his breath. Suitcase farmers are people who bought land here but reside elsewhere. They hire people to plant and harvest their wheat hoping to make a tidy profit. They could care less about the community of our little town.

We step into the drug store and sit down at the counter. Uncle Haymitch orders some cokes. He's still muttering about damn, fool suitcase farmers under his breath. The cokes arrive and my uncle pulls out his flask to doctor his soda. We visit for a bit. Uncle teases Prim and makes her laugh describing how his geese chased off Greasy Sae when she dropped by to visit earlier this week. My uncle occasionally does some handiwork for her. She trades with food. After we finish our cokes, I say thank you. Prim gives Uncle a hug and we say goodbye.

Prim and I walk next door to The Mellark Bakery. We stand in line and patiently wait as people are helped in front of us. When we reach the front of the line, I look up and see Peeta.

"Hello Katniss, do you want the regular?" he asks with a grin.

I nod my head, and he responds, "Great. Let me go get it out of the back. A few fresh loaves just came out of the oven."

Peeta Mellark has been a good friend to me since Papa died. In fact, he saved me when it came to schoolwork. The first few months were very hard. If I missed school, he picked up my assignments and dropped them by the farm. Often he stayed to do homework. I asked him once why he was doing this. He explained that the work was supposed to be done with a partner and I was a better alternative to Glimmer. I'm not sure I believe him. I feel I owe him and I don't know how to pay him back.

Peeta comes back out and wraps two loaves of hearty bread. I notice him slip a small baggy of something else in the package. "Peeta, no!" I tell him, my voice a little too sharp.

"Katniss, they're just cookies. I messed up the icing, so I can't sell them." He shrugs.

This time I know he's fibbing. Peeta is amazingly talented with icing. He does the towns wedding cakes. But, I let it go. We need to get going anyway. If I did argue, I'm sure Peeta would purposely squeeze the bag to "ruin" the icing before I could prove him wrong.

Suddenly, Mrs. Mellark pokes her head out of the back. "Peeta, you have work to do. Now is not the time to visit with your friends," she states sourly before going back to wherever she came from. The bakery is no longer busy. We are the only ones there. Peeta rolls his eyes.

"Um, Katniss. Are you going to the church social tomorrow?" He looks hopeful.

"Probably not. Lots to do on the farm." I shake my head, turn and start walking toward the door. I realize Prim has not followed me. I turn around and notice her whispering something in Peeta's ear. She giggles and follows me out.

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_Peeta_

"Don't worry. We're going," Prim whispers in my ear with a giggle. Grinning, I look up and see Katniss giving us a stormy glare. Prim smiles at me before turning to trail after her sister.

Grabbing a towel, I start wiping down the counters since it's really close to the end of the day. Maybe if I'm lucky I can get some drawing time before dinner, depending on what Ma asks me to do. My pops has walked in from the kitchen.

"Peeta. I think we are good today. Go ahead and go, but don't let your ma know," he smiles and gives me a conspiratorial wink.

He doesn't have to tell me twice, as I quietly slip up the stairs to our apartment above the bakery. Entering the room I share with my older brother Ben, I realize he must still be out with his buddies. He opened the bakery today and worked until I got home from school.

Grabbing my sketchpad and charcoals, I settle myself against the headboard of my bed. A couple hours later, I hear the call for dinner, not believing how much time has passed. I look down with a critical eye at the various scenes from today that I've sketched. Miss Trinket bent over her desk with a book. Pops kneading dough. Lastly, I see three braids, two blonde, one brunette exiting the bakery. I spent most of my time on the last drawing. There is just something about Katniss Everdeen. Boy, she is a hard girl to get to know, but not for lack of trying. I had to talk some circles in order to get her to allow me to bring the schoolwork she missed.

"Peeta, dinner now! Move your lazy arse."

"Coming, Ma!" Pull it together Mellark, the last thing I need to do is irritate Ma tonight. She's had a bee in her bonnet since July. Running out of my room, I crash into Pops.

"Slow down, son," he chuckles. We walk into the dining room. Ben's still gone, but I see my eldest brother Ted and his wife Grace are joining us. Ted and Grace live on the family farm about eight miles out of town. Our family has always run the town bakery, but when wheat was booming a decade ago, Ma thought we should invest. Overall, we've done well in it, except this year isn't going so hot. Ma has great ambitions and the drop in wheat prices does _not_ help her plans. In the middle of dinner she declares, "I think we should buy more land so we can increase our wheat production."

"Esther, wheat prices are down," Pop rebuts.

"If we increase our production, we can still make the same amount of money as two years ago."

"But, this year the decrease in prices really cut into our profits. We don't have the money."

"We'll mortgage the bakery."

"Now, Esther."

"Don't 'Now, Esther' me. We have to act now. Planting is about to start and we need to prep new fields. I talked to Mr. Snow at the bank earlier today and he's drawing up the paperwork. There's a nice piece of property not too far from the main farm."

Ted, Grace, and I silently watch them argue through dinner, before Pops stops arguing and agrees to sign the paperwork on Monday. I help Grace clear the table, while Pops sits quietly by listening to Ted and Ma discuss this year's planting. The mood of the evening soured during the argument so I excuse myself to my room. At least tomorrow is Saturday, and hopefully I'll get to see Katniss at the social. I wonder how Prim is going to accomplish that feat. I have a feeling that whatever Prim wants, Katniss makes sure she gets.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

_Katniss_

I open my eyes to the rooster's crow. Pinned between Prim and Buttercup, I blink the sleep away. Prim is watching me. She is an old soul, seeing more about people than they realize. Well, except for Rory. I sometimes wonder what she is thinking when she watches me. "Good morning, Little Duck."

She smiles at me. "Please, can we go to the social today?"

Groaning, I reply, "I'd love to take you to the social, but there is too much to do." She has the tenaciousness of a terrier when she wants something. She mentioned it twice last night.

"I'm sure we can get it done."

"Really, Prim. There is work that needs to be done around the farm and we need to clean the house. Not to mention," I pause and start tickling my sister's sides before continuing, "We must take care of the centipedes." My sister is chortling. I stop tickling her. "Okay, let's get up and get to it."

Prim and I quickly clean up and get dressed. We both go outside to milk Bessie and Lady. Once I've fed the rest of the animals and Prim has taken care of the chickens we head inside to eat some breakfast. To my surprise, Mama is at the stove making hot cereal. Perhaps today will be a good day.

"What needs to be done around the farm today?" Mama inquires.

"The usual. I need to muck out the barn, lay fresh hay. The horses need to be worked a bit. I discovered some damage to the chicken coop this morning. It looks like something tried to get in there. I need to repair that."

"Okay. Why don't you take care of that? Prim and I will clean the house and do the laundry. I'll also iron the walls down."

I look up, surprised. "Yes, I heard them too."

We separately go about our day, taking a break for lunch. After lunch, I finally get to the chicken coop. Probably a damn coyote. It's about midafternoon once I finish repairing the coop. Much earlier than expected for the day. Maybe I can spend some time reading. I head back into the house. I smell cornbread baking. I see my mother sitting at the table braiding Prim's hair.

"Katniss, the bathwater is still warm. Clean up. I laid a dress out for you on my bed."

I know what Prim and Mama are up to. We are going to the social whether I want to or not. So much for curling up with a book.

I go into the bedroom and strip out of my work clothes. Easing myself into the tub, I sigh at the warmth. Mama must have just added new water. Grabbing the brush and soap, I scrub the dirt out from under my nails. Once I'm done cleaning up, I ease myself out of the tub. I quickly dry myself with a towel before I walk over to the bed to dress. The dress my Mama laid out is one of her own. It's a soft periwinkle blue with a drop waist, accented with a belt that ties to the side and a scoop neckline. It is beautiful. I don the dress, and walk out of the bedroom.

"Mama, are you sure?"

"You, look beautiful. Let me fix your hair."

I sit down in front of Mama, and she begins working on my hair. With deft fingers, she weaves several braids at the base of my neck, securing them in place with bobby pins. The current look is to crop your hair short in a bob. It looks very pretty on some women, but I'd find it inconvenient. A quick braid keeps my hair out of the way most days. I'd also not be able to have this time with my mother.

Mama finishes getting ready. I help her and Prim into the passenger side of the truck. I drive us to town. Right after Papa died Gale taught me to drive. Uncle offered first during a dinner at the Hawthornes. Gale and I immediately said, "No," probably a little to vehemently. I didn't need my less than sober uncle teaching me. I suspect Uncle Haymitch's plan all along was for Gale to do it.

We arrive at the social, which is held at the town assembly rooms. We enter and Mama quickly heads over to where the women are setting up food. I look down at Prim.

"Why don't you go find your friends?"

"Katniss. Do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Be nice."

"What? I'm nice."

"Don't just stand off in the corner all night. Talk to people. Dance," she tells me before running off. My sister knows me a little too well. I did plan to find a seat along the wall. Honestly, I don't want to be here. Shaking my head, I go over to the side. I see Mama is still visiting with the other ladies from town. She is talking to Livy Avery, Glimmer's mother. She is showing vibrancy that isn't often seen since Papa died.

Sitting back, I enjoy the band. People are dancing. First a waltz. Then a two-step. I enjoy the fiddle work, closing my eyes.

"Hello, Katniss. Nice evening." The voice startles me. Peeta sits in the chair beside me.

"Good evening."

"So you came after all."

I mumble, "I wasn't given much choice."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. How was your Saturday?"

"Oh, much the same as always. Saturday is a busy day at the bakery. Many people do their shopping then."

We are silent for a few minutes, looking straight ahead at the dancing. I quickly glance at him. I can tell he's trying to say something.

"Would you like to dance?"

"I'm not much into dancing," I decline.

He looks disappointed. I sneak another glance at him. He's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Suddenly he says, "It's awfully stuffy in here. Would you like to go for a walk?"

I look at him and see him smiling hopefully at me. Truth is I'd like to get away from all the people. Peeta is good company. "Sure," I reply. "I need to let Prim know where I'm going."

After I track down Prim, Peeta and I step outside. We walk in silence for a while down Panem's Main Street. "Nice evening." Peeta breaks the silence.

"Yes, it is. Not too cold yet." I pause a moment before continuing, "The stars are beautiful. Honestly, I don't think there is anything more beautiful than the clear Oklahoma sky, day or night."

"Oh, I can think of something or more appropriately someone."

I look over at Peeta; shake my head, giving him a grin. Laughing, "Do those lines work with the other girls in town?" Peeta chuckles, indicating that he's just having fun with me.

"The bakery is just up ahead. I've been experimenting with a new recipe and there are some leftovers. Would you like to try it? I'd love to know what you think. If it's good, Ma might let me start selling them," he says in a rush.

"We really should be getting back. Prim will be looking for me."

"We have time. It'll only take a few minutes."

Peeta lets us in the bakery. He takes me back to the kitchen, which has the largest oven I've ever seen. He grabs a chair and places it next to a large wooden table. "Sit down. I'll just be a second."

Peeta returns with a plate of buns, each with a slice of cheese melted on top. He looks expectantly at me. I moan with my first bite. There is also cheese in the middle. "These are so good. You have to sell them."

He grins sheepishly. "Thank you."

It doesn't take me long to polish off the plate.

"You weren't hungry were you?"

"Shut up, Peeta." I say sternly, and then give a little laugh. "We should head back."

Peeta and I stroll back to the assembly in silence. I appreciate that Peeta doesn't make me talk. We walk in and I immediately see Esther Mellark heading in our direction.

"Peeta, where have you been? That nice Lily MacLeod was looking for you. She wants to dance with you. Go find her now," she orders before rushing off.

"It was nice visiting with you, Katniss," Peeta tells me quietly.

"Thank you for the walk and the cheese buns."

"You're welcome." He grins back at me before he leaves to go find Lily. She is the daughter of the owner of hardware store. I watch him walk up to her and lead her out to dance. It's a lively two-step. The fox-faced girl is quite fast on her feet. I feel a strange tug in my chest. I shake my head. It's not like I want to be dancing. Besides, I don't know how.

Mama and Prim find me a little while later. We walk out to the truck. Prim is chattering about how much fun she had. Mama laughs along with her. I don't hear Mama laugh often. It is nice. Prim doesn't quiet down until we tuck ourselves into bed.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Sunday is my favorite day. In the morning, Mama, Prim and I go to church. Afterwards we eat lunch. Then my time is my own. I gather my bow, which Papa carved for me, put on his jacket, saddle my horse and head out toward the Hawthorne ranch.

Gale and I meet up every Sunday to go hunting. We normally get a few rabbits, and sometimes prairie chickens. We hunt with bows and arrows because they are silent. One gunshot and all game scatter for miles. I approach Gale who is waiting for me. I dismount from my horse.

"What trouble have you been up to, Catnip?"

"Don't call me that. And nothing." I hate that he calls me Catnip. It's a holdover from when he was two and couldn't pronounce the "s" sound.

"That's not what I hear."

"What do you mean? I work on the farm, or I'm at school."

"I hear you went for a walk with someone last night at the social."

I look at him sharply. He responds, "Rory was there. Flirting with Prim as always."

I chuckle. "I did go for a walk with Peeta. He's just a friend."

"Just a friend?"

"No need to turn into my big brother, and I had a father." I gently nudge him in the arm.

He grins back at me. "Okay, okay. Just as long as he doesn't take inappropriate liberties."

"Gale. Seriously. What do you think would happen if someone was inappropriate?"

He thinks about it. Squints he eyes. Realizes I have a look of deadly intent toward his belt buckle.

Gale laughs, "He'd probably be singing soprano for a week."

"Peeta's a good guy. Don't worry about him."

He nods at me. We head off to hunt. After about an hour of no luck, we come across a few prairie chickens, quickly taking them down. Not long after that, we each get a rabbit. Not a bad haul.

We start back and I ask him about the ranch.

"It's good." Gale is never one for many words and doesn't complain.

"No problems."

"Nothing I can't manage. Thom, as always, is great. I'm glad he stayed on after Daddy passed."

We are both silent for the rest of our trip together. We get back to the place where we met, dividing the chickens and the rabbits. We argued for a couple minutes over the chickens. Finally, I agreed to take two over his one. He hugs me and we say goodbye.

I ride my horse back toward home, reflecting on the past year. A lot has happened since Papa died, but the farm gave me something to hold onto. We are doing all right.

**A/N: If you would like additional information about this chapter, you can visit my tumblr: dispatchesfromdistrict7**

**Thank you to e-marina for pre-reading and victorianoir for being an awesome beta.**

**The characters are the property of the amazing Suzanne Collins and do not belong to me. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all my patient readers. I suffered some severe writer's block in regards to how to approach this chapter. It took me going back and rereading the series to gain inspiration. Real life created some issues as well. But I'm back and excited to really get this story moving over the next few chapters. I plan on alternating updates between this and my other story, _For the Best_, so hopeful an update will come every couple weeks.**

**This chapter includes a couple footnotes. Additional author notes are at the end of this chapter.**

Chapter 3

_August 1931 – Katniss POV_

"I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other," Mr. Snow, the president of the Capitol Bank of Panem says looking directly at me. "What do you think?" 1

Nodding, I answer with a steady voice, "Yes, I think that would save time."i I glance over at my mother sitting next to me, who is staring blankly ahead. She only attends these meetings because technically I am a minor. The truth is that I've been responsible for managing the farm for almost two years. We are meeting with Mr. Snow today to discuss repayment of our loans. The crop came in well beyond our expectations, but the market fell out. It costs fifty cents a bushel to raise wheat and I was only able to garner a market price of twenty-four cents. A balloon payment for the tractor and last year's seed is coming due.

"Miss Everdeen, I know this has been a hard year. It's been tough on everyone, but that is the nature of farming. As long as you keep up with your payments as scheduled you should not have a problem keeping your farming equipment."

"Can we discuss the possibility of changing our payment plan?" I inquire.

"Oh, Miss Everdeen, I wish we could, but if we make one exception, then all would expect it. The bank wouldn't be able to keep operating." His wish is an attempt to placate me prior to saying no. I'd rather he just get straight to the point.

I keep my face even, hiding my disappointment. Nodding, "I understand." And I do understand. Banks are failing across the country. Every week I read in the papers about this. First National in Dalhart, Texas, which is not too far from our small town, closed its doors just over a month ago.

Mr. Snow looks down to examine some papers, "Now Miss Everdeen, your accounts are currently in good standing and your savings account indicates you should be able to maintain payment."

I grind my teeth. I do not want to touch our savings. We'd always saved money, just in case of a tough year. A year where the crop is destroyed by hail or perhaps a prairie fire. Farming was risky. Mr. Snow was right about that. We are subject to the elements. Rain hitting at the right time of the growing season results in a bumper crop. Lack of rain can drastically reduce yields. That is why we save. The last few years, after the new barn was built, Papa also started put money away for building a new house. Then he died. Soon after the market on Wall Street crashed in New York. Most of the country has been suffering from this. When we go to the movies, the newsreels show that people are out of work. We've been fortunate here in the Oklahoma panhandle. It hasn't been that bad until recently. Panem, Oklahoma has felt the drop in wheat prices. I hope that next year will be better, but what is it's not? I do not want to touch our savings.

"Mr. Snow. Yes, we have the savings. That is also our collateral for next year's seed purchase." Our savings allows me to not put up the farm when we need to get a loan for the next year's seed. Not every farmer is that fortunate.

"Miss Everdeen, from what I can see you should still be able to make payments and should have enough remaining to ensure you are still a good risk for financing. I'm sure next year will be better. Less people will be planting so prices should go up. It's simple supply and demand. Do you understand economics, Miss Everdeen?"

"Yes, I do." I don't appreciate his condescending tone. Last year we had a basic economics course in school. Miss Trinket taught us the principles of supply and demand and how it affects price. This is important for farmers to understand. This year was a bumper crop, dumping more grain than there was need so prices fell. The suitcase farmers packed up and left with the collapse of the market. There will be many fields that lay fallow when planting occurs in the fall. I hope that means prices go up, but considering how the country is fairing financially overall, I have my doubts. People may want to buy wheat, but what if there is no money available to do so? This is more complicated than simple supply and demand. He has to know that, but he doesn't think that I do. I hope next year is a better year, but if prices don't recover…At least this year, I only need to take out a loan for seed.

Mr. Snows looks at me. He has a bit of a smarmy quality about him. His white hair is slicked back with pomade and he wears wired rimmed glasses on the edge of his bulbous nose. He peers down at me nods, "Good, then it's decided. You'll continue to make your payments as scheduled." He looks down again at the paperwork on his desk, pulling out what looks to be a contract. "Meanwhile, I took the liberty of drawing up this year's loan papers for you to sign." He hands the paperwork to Mama.

"Let me review them," I insist as I take them from my mother. I scan them and see it is similar to the agreement we made last year to cover the price of seed. Since everything appears in order, I hand the paperwork back to Mama. She quickly signs. We conclude our meeting with Mr. Snow and exit the bank.

We walk out and the sun temporarily blinds us. As our eyes adjust, I turn to my mother. She's having a pretty good day today. She has gotten better as time has continued since Papa's death. I still feel like the parent in our relationship.

She smiles at me. "It will be alright, Katniss. It's as your father said, 'When it gets tough, next year will be better.' Don't worry so much."

One of us has to.

I looked down at the ground, "You need to go to the grocer? Why don't you go there and run any other town errands you have. Meet me back in the town square in an hour."

"Okay, Katniss."

We part ways. I stroll slowly through town to the Hob, the feed 'n' seed. The heat is oppressive. They say it's the hottest summer in years. I believe it. Everyone human and animal seems to have slowed their gait to adjust for the heat. I walk in the main entrance of the Hob. Several men are standing around talking. I overhear them discussing the Schmidt farm. I go to school with Cato, their oldest boy. It sounds like they may be losing the farm. The Hob is a good place to pick up gossip as well as farm supplies. I walk up to the counter.

"Hello Mr. Jones." I greet the owner of the hob.

"What can I do you for today, Katniss?"

"I just left the bank, and secured our loan for this year's seed, so I'd like to place our order?"

"Sure thing. Let me get the order book." Mr. Jones hollers over his shoulder, "Leevy, can you grab the order book. I left it in the back office."

His daughter comes out and hands her father the book. She is a couple years older, Gale's age. She gives me a sunny hello. I nod back with a half-smile. "Have you seen Gale lately?" She has a bit of a crush on him.

"Yes." I don't offer up any other information. After a moment, she realizes I'm not going to say anything else and goes back to the office.

I place our annual seed order. I thank Mr. Jones. Walking out of the Hob, I head toward Mellark's bakery. We need to watch our pennies, but I want to pick up a treat for Prim. She was disappointed with being left at home today.

I enter the bakery and it's empty except for Peeta reading a book behind the counter.

He jumps off the stool he was sitting on.

With a big grin he says, "Hello Katniss!"

"Hello Peeta. What are your reading?" Giving him a genuine smile.

"Oh, uh. _Walden_ by Henry David Thoreau. I borrowed it from Miss Trinket."

"Is it any good?"

"Yes, I'm really enjoying it. It puts things in perspective. You should borrow it when I'm done. How are things with you?"

Since the bakery is empty and his mother isn't around, we can catch up. He has become a very good friend this past year. If given the choice, we partner on school projects. He's also helped me out some on the farm. I haven't seen much of him since school let out at the beginning of June. Only if I come to town. I've missed him.

Suddenly I realize the time. Mama must be waiting for me.

"Peeta, I just realized how late it's gotten and Mama's probably waiting. I did actually want to buy something. Can I get a loaf of the grain bread and two of the frosted sugar cookies?"

"Sure. The cookies are for Prim?" He carefully selects out two beautiful cookies. One decorated with a tiger lily another with a rose. Clearly his handiwork. He places them in a bag before grabbing a loaf of bread.

He inquires as he rings me up, "My father was wondering if Prim is still making goat cheese?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, the apples are about to be harvested from our tree and it would be perfect for the apple and goat cheese tarts he likes to make. He figured we could arrange a trade – cheese for bread?"

"I think that could probably work." I'll bring Prim with me when we make the trade. She needs to learn how to barter.

"Great. Just come by on a Tuesday or Thursday afternoon. Pops or I should be here."

In my head, I translate this as, "My mother will be gone." No one in town likes doing business with her. After paying Peeta, we say goodbye.

I meet my mother at the square. We walk back to the truck. I help her into the passenger side of the truck before getting in.

We drive out of town, past the overflowing grain silos. This year's bonanza crop is now rotting in the sun.

* * *

_November 1931 – Peeta POV_

I see Katniss approaching me. She looks awfully pretty in the sage green dress she wore to school today. Her hair is in its trademark braid and wraps around her shoulder. I'm glad she hasn't followed the current fashion like Glimmer, Clove, and Lily, who have it cut just below their chin. She'd still look pretty if she did cut it, but with it long, I can imagine it flowing freely down her back unbound by from the braid.

She sits down next to me with her lunch pail. I've been waiting for her. Now we sit silently digging into our respective lunches, pulling out various items to divide between us. This year we've got into the habit of bringing half of each other lunches. I brought bread for two and a couple apples from our cold cellar. At the bottom of my lunch pail, I also have a couple cookies but that is a surprise for later. She pulls out a couple chunks of goat cheese and pickles from her family's garden. I pull out my pocketknife and slice up the apples for us. I watch her as she spreads the cheese over her bread and takes a small bite. She closes her eyes briefly as she chews. Her tongue slips out to get a stray crumb of cheese at the corner of her lip. She suddenly opens her eyes and sees me staring at her. She asks, "Do I have food on my face or something?"

I shake my head. After taking a second to recover from having been caught I add, "I was waiting for you to stop chewing, we need to talk about starting our history presentation."

Katniss apparently accepts this explanation. "Yah, we do. Ummm. Actually, I also need to ask you a favor." She pauses.

I prompt, "Go ahead."

"I have to miss school tomorrow. Lady is coming into season." Her lips close around a section of apple and she takes a bite of apple. Since I don't immediately respond. She swallows and continues, "I need to drop her with Goat Man tomorrow. He'll keep her for a week. We need to be sure that she's had a chance to be bred." I chuckle quietly as to her reference to Mr. Winters. He's a cantankerous old guy, who not only raises goats but also resembles them quite a bit.

"If we're lucky we'll get triplets next spring. Goat Man always gets first pick of the kids. It will probably be a few weeks before I bring good cheese again." Katniss finishes before placing a pickled green bean neatly between her straight white teeth and taking a bite.

"No cheese?" I protest.

"You don't want cheese or milk right after Lady visits the stud. It's nasty. Best to wait a week."

"Of course I'll take notes." I agree. "I also don't work tomorrow afternoon, so I can come by afterwards and I can catch you up and we can start the project," hurriedly stumbles out of my mouth. What is my problem today? She knows I don't work tomorrow. My work schedule is not a secret. She knows I'll drop the notes by her house. I've been doing that for two years. Shut up, Mellark.

"Thanks, Peeta. You're the best." She gives me a little smile. I pull out the two frosted cookies and hand her one. Her smile grows a bit more. Her tongue flicks out as she discretely tries to lick off the frosting first. She always does that before eating the cookie. We finish our lunch and head back into class.

After school, I hurry to the bakery.

"Where have you been?" Barks my mother, as I want into the door. The bakery is empty, which is not unusual lately. Business is down all over town.

"School."

"Don't sass me. Hurry up and make yourself useful."

I duck into the back and run up the stairs to my room. I drop my books and lunch pail before grabbing my apron and my history book before running back downstairs. I might as well get some homework done if it's going to be a slow afternoon. Ma will go back into the office once I get down there so I should be able to study in peace. I'd bring my sketchpad but Ma would give me a hard time about not doing my homework.

"Took you long enough."

"Sorry, Ma."

She leaves the storefront to me and heads toward the back. It is really dead today. I quickly finish my history reading and then I sweep the store before wiping down all the shelves. I start reading ahead in my history book. I really should have also brought another book with me. About a half hour before close, Lily McLeod walks in.

"Hello, Peeta. How are you?"

Smiling at her I greet, "I'm great. What can I get you?"

"I'd like a loaf of the wheat bread, please."

I turn around, grab a loaf, and begin to bag it.

"So what are you up to this weekend? Any plans?" She inquires with a hopeful tone. I think she may have a bit of a crush on me. She's a pretty girl with auburn hair and a sharp nose. Katniss once told me that Lily reminds her of a fox.

"Uh. Yeah. I need to work on my history project…um with Katniss." I hand her the bread and ring her up. I have no idea if I'm going to be working on my project with Katniss this weekend, but it provides a good excuse.

"Oh." She sounds a little disappointed. "Um. Yes, Glimmer and I started after school today. We are doing the French Revolution. Unfortunately I'll probably be doing most of the work." She scrunches her nose a bit. It looks cute. She asks, "What are you doing?"

I don't doubt that Glimmer is a lazy student. Luckily, I don't have that problem. "The Napoleonic Wars."

"That should be interesting. I can't wait to see what you do. I'll see you around, Peeta." She flounces back out the store.

It doesn't take a minute for Ma to pop her head out of the back.

"Who was just here?"

"Lily McLeod."

"You should take her out on Saturday." Ma is constantly pushing Lily at me. Her dad owns the hardware store. However, she isn't whom I'm interested in.

I duck my head and avoid her eyes, as I mumble, "I've got to work on a school project with Katniss on Saturday." I really hope Katniss is free to do that.

Pops, who must have overheard, comes in from the kitchen. "Leave the boy alone. He can manage his own love life. Peeta, you're done for today. Ben and I have already done the prep work for tomorrow."

Dismissed, I duck out the back and head toward the stairs. I can hear my mother fuss.

"He spends too much time with that Katniss girl. He should be going out with a girl like Lily."

"Esther, leave the boy alone. The last thing a boy wants is to be set up by his mother. That will guarantee he won't be interested."

It's not long until I'm called to dinner. There is a tension in the air, so my parents must be arguing again. As is polite we all relate the happenings of the day. I talk about school. Ben tries to tell a funny story about a bakery mishap but is jumped on by Ma for wasting ingredients. Soon enough Ben and I are clearing the table. Ben sneaks out the back door, while I do the dishes.

Yep, the folks are arguing again. Soon their voices get so loud, I'm sure the neighbors can hear. My father, who rarely raises his voice, has been doing it more so lately in order to be heard. According to Ma, everything is Pop's fault. Things are bad. The fall of wheat prices means we took a significant loss and it's put the farm and the bakery at risk. People around town don't have money to spend on cookies, cakes, and fresh bread. Most of what sells lately is marked down day old. My pops, so slow to anger, is angry with my mother and at himself over the mortgage they took out on the bakery last year. I shake my head at Ma and her ambitions. I keep coming back to what Thoreau said, "_The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation._"2 That is my mother. She has never been happy with how we live, always comparing us to her cousins back east or the Hawthornes. Ma is always talking down about the Hawthornes, because they are part Indian, but she covets their wealth. She doesn't see how blessed we've been. Rather, she blames Pa. He's obviously responsible for her living in, "Godforsaken Panem, Oklahoma," not to mention the poor performance of the bakery, and the failure of the farm. You'd think that pops was responsible for the collapse wheat prices if you listened to my mother. I finish drying the last dish and head up the stairs before I can hear her start going on about how all her sons are worthless good for nothings. My mother is an unhappy woman. I try not to let that affect me. Ben tends to be out of the house as much as possible. Unfortunately, Pops bears the brunt of it.

I pull out my sketchpad and sketch for a couple hours. Sketching helps me relax, blocking out the rest of the world. I have to be present in the moment to make sure I get the curve of a jaw just right, or capture the gleam I remember in a set of eyes. I have to get up early to prepare the bakery for opening before I leave for school since I don't work tomorrow afternoon. After putting the last touches on a drawing, I get into bed. Ben still hasn't returned yet. I close my eyes, images of Katniss pop into my head. I remember her in pretty sage-colored dress she wore today. Her pink tongue flicking out to catch a crumb off her lips. I imagine unbraiding her hair and running my hands through her silky dark locks. Since Ben is still gone, I relieve the ache that I seem to constantly suffer from lately, before going to sleep.

* * *

1 Direct quote from _Catching Fire_ by Suzanne Collins (page 19, Hardcover edition)

2 From _Walden_ by Henry David Thoreau

* * *

**A/N: **

**Peeta referred to the Hawthornes as Indian as opposed to Native or Native American, because during this time period this would have been the term he would have used.**

**If you would like additional information about this chapter, you can visit my tumblr: dispatchesfromdistrict7. I usually post more information regarding the story and the history surrounding it within 24 hours of posting.**

**Thank you victorianoir for being an awesome beta.**

**The characters are the property of the amazing Suzanne Collins and do not belong to me. **


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